Stains on Black
by The Munch
Summary: When Kida finds Izaya seriously injured in an alley one night, he's not sure what to do. Upon taking him home, this roller coaster continues. Eventual Kida/Izaya
1. Chapter 1

**So... this is my first Durarara! fic! So.. bear with me with characters and stuff... But I hope you enjoy! This is a fill from the drrrkinkmeme on livejournal! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara!, Kida, Izaya, and any other characters that come from the anime/manga/light novels. The plot prompt came from an anon on the kinkmeme, but the writing and story from then on are mine. **

**Without further ado, enjoy ^^ **

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Rain.

It was raining.

Why did it always have to rain when horrible things happened?

The young man slumped against the alley wall hated the rain, but he made no effort to move out of it. He instead clung to his jacket, pulling it tighter around himself in hopes it would provide some further protection or warmth. One of the sleeves, however, had been ripped at the seam and now hung open, leaving only a light shirt between he and the elements. Other parts of clothing showed further signs of the extreme wear and tear that could only have been brought on by some kind of violent act. The knee of his jeans, ripped wide open, revealed a bloody gash across pale flesh… Fur trim hung off, ripped clean of its stitching, and trailed in a puddle of dark liquid that could not simply be water…

The lank, damp smell of the alley was punctuated by the pungent, metallic smell of blood, signaling the presence of more than what was visible. The dark clothing seemed to do a good job of hiding it, but it dripped slowly off a pale hand and oozed slowly from the knee wound. The young man had lost track of what wet was water and what wet was blood, both having come in such volume they had melded together both physically and mentally. Only his deathly pale skin and cooling temperature gave a clue to how much had actually flowed.

He shivered, but still made no effort to move from the dismal alleyway. It was not certain if this lack of movement was because he physically could not or simply did not have the drive to carry himself elsewhere after the event that had left him there. He merely sat, back leaning heavily against the cold stone wall as rain soaked through his clothing and dripped through his hair. It left him shivering uncontrollably, half drowned, and in a haze of pain.

Nobody noticed.

People could be heard moving past the alleyway, talking amongst themselves or chattering away on cell phones, but no one stopped to help or even cast a sympathetic look. Whether it was because they simply did not notice or care was a mystery. It could simply have been that it was far too common a scene anymore, and so to keep themselves from being targeted they left others to fend for themselves. No one wanted to fall under the wrath of the people who were responsible for these acts. And so no one stopped for him.

That was until a shape took up the alley's entrance, casting a shadow over the quivering, diminished figure. He looked up, eyes barely open a crack, only to see a terrifying flash of yellow.

"Izaya-san?"

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**So.. short first chapter! More to come! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Glad to see such a response to this fic :D! Makes me very happy ^^ I will continue to update this as best I can, but I do write everything out by hand first **

**So enjoy the latest addition!**

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"Izaya-san!" the voice cried, and if there had been any doubt before it was vacant now. The voice belonged to another young man, this one with a mess of blonde hair that was currently plastered to his head by the rain. He was younger than the man he referred to as "Izaya-san", but had a slightly stockier build. He was clad in simple clothing, jeans and a white sweatshirt. The yellow came from a bandana tied firmly around his neck. The figure was a sharp contrast to the one against the wall, whose clothing was as raven black as his short hair.

He made his way down the alley, not quite running because of the hazard of the wet ground. All looks or acts of concern, however, faded when he reached the gravely injured person slumped against the wall.

"So, some finally managed to pay you back for all the shit you've caused?" he asked, voice cold and slightly mocking. His face had broken into a cruel smile.

"Guess they did, didn't they?" the young man managed to rasp quietly, accompanied by a small chuckle that came out sound more like a cough. It was unclear if he was talking to the young man who was looming over him or if it was simply some personal musing. "Though I will admit I'm surprised Masaomi-kun stopped for me. Is it possible that Masaomi-kun still cares for his old friend" The man shot him an imp-like smile as well, finding some energy for it despite the pain.

"I'm not your friend," 'Masaomi-kun' shot back harshly, "and what makes you think I stopped to help you? I could just leave you here to die."

"Masaomi-kun wouldn't do that, would he? A dumpster-filled alley way is such an icky place to die. You could at least take me somewhere more pleasant, couldn't you, Masaomi-kun?" he responded, his voice becoming weak and more pain-laced despite all his jest.

"What makes you think I'd be willing to do that for you?" Kida asked, face set in a hard mask of cruel seriousness. "It's certainly more than you deserve."

"Saki-chan would be most disappointed in you if you left me here to die when you could have helped me," he sing-songed weakly, though the devilish smirk on his pale face had a much greater impact.

"Don't you dare bring her up!" Kida snapped, eyes blazing fiercely now.

"Ah, I've hit a nerve?" Izaya asked, chuckle-coughing again. He gazed slyly in the younger boy's direction, though his eyes still drooped almost closed. Even resorting to his usual self was not going to magically heal him. And what was worse, being his usual self was becoming much more of an effort than it should have been…

"Just shut up, Izaya-san. You aren't helping yourself any," Kida growled, glaring at the informant who was still leaning heavily against the wall, vulnerable.

"If I could help myself I wouldn't be sitting here in this alley, now would I, Masaomi-kun?" Izaya responded, though it was getting harder for him to deny that all this conversation was sapping what little energy he had left. He shivered again, the cold seeming much more profound suddenly.

"I'm sure you'd find a way to worm yourself out of here and off to your apartment, safe and sound," Kida responded. The informant always seemed to find a way to elude death, and that was something that instantly irked the younger male. The man seemed to have no problem bringing about the demise of others while he thwarted his own.

"Ah, Masaomi-kun..," Izaya responded quietly, seeming to have lost even the energy for his usual rambling. His skin had even taken on a grayer tone over the past few minutes. It was becoming harder to keep his eyes from sliding shut, and the shivers were racking his body more violently as the rain seeped further into his clothing, long since having soaked through to the skin. He was fading quickly, and even Kida could see that.

Kida turned, facing back towards the entryway of the alley to leave, wanting nothing more to do with the informant. With any luck he would be gone by morning and the whole of Ikebukuro would be safe from his reign of terror. The blonde set his expression firm, taking two strides towards the entry, towards what he proposed would be freedom.

And those were the last two steps he took in that direction.

He froze, finding himself once more unable to take steps in his desired direction. He mentally cursed himself as he turned back to look at the informant at the wall, unable to move further away. It was something about the image, the vulnerability and helplessness of it, that kept him from leaving Izaya there to die. He was diminished and pathetic, which was a much different image than his usual haughty self.

"Shit," Kida growled, cursing himself more verbally for being so weak that he could not stand to his convictions once more. He walked back over to the wall, and was nudging an arm over his shoulders to prop up the informant only a few moments later.

He sagged under the informant's weight as he stood. Izaya may not have weighed much, but he could not offer any help in supporting that weight. He leaned heavily on the younger boy, blood dripping steadily from his hand onto the alley floor. He groaned as he took a step forward, already wondering how he would be able to drag the informant back to his apartment.

"You don't deserve this, y'know?" Kida grunted as he walked, but Izaya was too far gone to respond, possibly even hear, this comment.

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**Until next time! Enjoy~**


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